Six Moments in A Name
by The Otherworlder
Summary: Six short stories about the glories of Aioros in his brief life. Happy birthday my beloved Sagittarius!
1. Asteroid

**Asteroid**

The night before the goddess came to the Sanctuary, there was a meteor shower. At the time, Sanctuary stood at the verge of great change. All had been made ready for the arrival of the goddess, and Lord Shion had just declared Aioros to be the new Grand Pope. Everything seemed bright and well, yet only the children did not notice the undercurrent.

But despite everything, despite the silently raging passions, there was nothing on the surface. With Lord Shion's permission, the three older saints, Aioros, Saga and Kanon took all the children to see the meteor shower on Star Hill. The children were most delighted. They gasped and clapped and cheered at every streak of light crossing the sky.

"What is the meteor shower made of, brother Saga?" Milo, young and ever curious, asked.

Saga smiled gently and probed, "What do you think, little one?"

"It's… it's like my Scarlet Needle," The seven-years old Milo said, "Almost as if there two warriors in the sky, shooting Scarlet Needle at each other."

"Your Scarlet Needle is not nearly as pretty as this!" Mu, who was outspoken and passionate like a true Aries at the age of seven, objected loudly, "The only thing comparable is my Master Shion's Stardust Revolution. He showed me on my fifth birthday; it looked exactly like this."

Milo bared his teeth and playfully shoved Mu, and Mu, not to be outdone, was ready to push back. Aphrodite gave them each a knock on the head, and said, "Quiet, and no fighting! Have some respect for this beauty." Aphrodite raised his head and added quietly in a sweet voice, " 'Tis a heavenly celebration we witness now: a firework from the gods themselves, who watch with both joy and sorrow as their beloved daughter is born in this world…" Aye, even at the tender age of ten, Aphrodite could wax poetic and turn every detail about him into beauty and enchantment.

Beneath the falling stars, the children engaged themselves in a spirited discussion about the true nature of meteors. Even Kanon joined the conversation and said, "It is a shower of fire; see how the sky burns!"

Only Aioros remained quiet through out the entire debate, until Saga nudged him and said jokingly, "Come, impart your wisdom on your faithful vassals, beloved Lord!"

Aioros answered with a serene smile, "They are only asteroids."

"What are asteroids, brother?" The children asked.

"Asteroids are like the moon, except much smaller." Aioros explained, "They are basically rocks, as big as the hill we stand on right now, floating in space . The really small ones are called meteoroid, but they are essentially the same from asteroids."

"The meteor shower looks nothing like rocks," Shura said, looking up at the sky.

"Well, sometimes asteroids and meteoroids move too close to our Earth, and they crash into our planet. During that process, they become really hot and they glow, that is why you see the beautiful flash." Aioros explained, "Meteors may look very different, but they are still only rocks."

"They are not rocks!" Aphrodite protested, "They are too beautiful to be just rocks!"

The children clamored again. Aioros laughed, his clear voice like crystal fountains rising into the sunlight. Good-naturedly he tried to explain in more details the physics of asteroids, meteoroids and meteors. In the end the children remained divided: some were convinced but disappointed with the lack of beauty in truth; some were wavering; some were wholly unconvinced still. Aioros did not mind their childish hesitance: he never lost his patience and smiled always. Beside him Kanon rolled his blue eyes a million times, both at the children and at Aioros.

When everything ended Kanon took the children back so that only Saga and Aioros remained standing upon Star Hill, looking into the pitch black sky.

"You shouldn't have gone on and explained these difficult ideas," Saga said softly to Aioros, "They are children and they like to keep their fancies."

Aioros smiled broadly and said, "I suppose it is hard for them to understand, but it is always good to learn about the true natures of things."

Saga made a non-committal voice in the depth of his throat. Sometimes it almost seemed that Saga was critical of Aioros's enthusiasm for the physical sciences.

Aioros studied Saga's face a moment, before saying hesitantly, "I suppose, Saga, that I also said these things for you."

"For me?" Saga was surprised.

"You have been acting differently ever since Lord Shion announced that I should be the new Grand Pope," Aioros said quietly, "I still do not really understand Lord Shion's decision, but I will not shirk my duty. I just want you to know that nothing changed between us."

"Hn." Saga said.

"I am still your best friend, Saga, still your little brother; I still need your support and your guidance." Aioros continued, blushing slightly, yet still with nothing but sincerity in his green eyes, "Perhaps it sounds cheesy, but I guess I was trying to say that I am in a way like a meteor: it matters not what I look like, I am still just a piece of rock."

When Saga was finally alone he thought about Aioros's words again and he broke out laughing. "You are indeed a meteor, Aioros," He said out loud, "You burn out your life and leave nothing behind. No one shall see the truth in you." Saga did not notice that his hair was turning black.

It took Saga thirteen years to learn the error of his words.

As a meteor makes its fatalistic flight towards Earth, not a single particle is lost. Every fine grain of the original rock eventually finds its way to Earth, becoming the very bones of the world.

As Aioros flew from the Sanctuary and lighted a blazing trail with his own life, he had become as immortal as the world he died to protect.


	2. Inundation

**And a happy birthday to our beloved little Scorpious too! **

**Thanks for reading, and I hope you will enjoy this update!**

* * *

**Inundation**

In the thickly forested mountains between the Sanctuary and the next town, there flowed a river. On a normal day, the river was bright and smooth, full of plants and fish, nourishing like mothers' milk. Yet every spring, the onslaught of rain and spills from higher elevations would swell the river to a monstrosity. A torrent of muddy water would roar down from the mountain peak, wailing and swallowing everything in its path. The green growths would rot in the yellow water and no fish would be seen. No one cared for this yearly flood; after all, nothing lived by the river save for foxes and wild fowls.

Until one day, a group of refugees from Albania trudged across boarders and mountains and settled down by the river. They thought the area would make a decent home for them, having all the necessary resources but no cold-hearted enforcer of immigration laws. When Sanctuary finally noticed, it was less than a week before the spring flood.

Still, the problem was not considered an especially important issue. Six years old Milo was sent there: he was to warn the people of the flood and help them relocate. When the child Milo arrived, he saw with utter amazement that a complete village had sprung up. On the bank of the river there were freshly painted log houses, patches of grains and vegetables, and pens crowded with birds.

Milo was struck speechless for a long time.

When he finally managed to give the Sanctuary's warning and convince the people of its authenticity, the villagers shared pained and exasperated looks among themselves.

"What can we do?" An old man asked with a heavy voice, "Where can we possibly go? All of our work, our houses, our plantings, they will all be gone. We will be homeless again; everything gone."

The lament sounded especially heart-wrenching to Milo in that broken Greek colored with heavy Albanian accent.

He clenched his teeth and said, "I will stop the flood."

With that he was gone. He went up the mountains, up to the upper reach of the river. He spent two days surveying the landscape. Then he chose a spot where the river surface was particular narrow and the elevation was falling quickly. He blasted at the river banks until the rocks and the loose earth built a dam across the river. Behind the dam a small pool formed: a dangerous sea.

In the first two days the small pool behind the dam quickly grew into an enormous lake. On the third day water was spilling over the dam so Milo made it higher with more rocks.

He knew somewhere in the depth of his childish, stubborn mind that his actions were quite futile. He had seen the spring flood in full force before, and he was sure that he could not hold it off. On the forth day, the dam trembled, but Milo held it together with the power of his will and his cosmos alone. He would defend the dam, or die trying.

On the fifth day he knew without a single thread of doubt that he would die there. The tens of thousands of tons water pounding against the rough dam made of dirt, rocks and cosmos was a tangible mass weighing down on his chest. He just clenched his teeth and willed himself to hold.

He was on the point of passing out when a familiar figure blurred into his sight: long, strong limbs moving with the grace of a winged horse, and golden hair like sunlight against the lead grey sky.

The next second Milo felt himself wrapped in a warm and comforting embrace. "Let go, Milo." Aioros's voice resounded by his ears, gentle and firm.

"Help me, Aioros!" Milo cried shrilly, "Help me hold it!"

Aioros said instead, "No, Milo, let go; stop burning your cosmos and let the dam collapse." With that Milo could feel Aioros's powerful cosmos enfold his own consciousness, cutting off his links with the dam and unwrapping the energy from the loose rocks holding back the river.

"No!" Milo struggled like a wild cat, screaming, "No! I have to stop the flood!"

In his fervor he raised his hand and sent a stream of Scarlet Needle into Aioros. At point blank range the streams of light sliced through Aioros's broad chest like knife through butter, yet still Aioros's embrace did not even tremble, much less loosen.

Blood spilt from the wounds and onto Milo's face. For a moment the child stilled, shocked by the sheer heat of the blood searing his face.

Then the dam came down with a thunderous crash. Rocks and clots of earth were sent speeding away like bullets. Water roared like a herd of stampeding warhorses. Milo could feel himself drift like a weightless feather in the flood. Yet, somehow, none of the flying rocks ever hit him, and the cold wetness of the river barely touched him. He was safely tucked away behind a pair of strong arms.

Milo did not know how and when he finally washed ashore. He only remembered that when he stopped drifting he was still inside Aioros's embrace. Aioros was lying on his back, half immerged in muddy water. He was still as death and just as pale, yet his chest was warm and his green eyes were clear like sunlight upon spring leaves.

"Milo, you cannot do that," Aioros said gently, "You cannot so rudely reverse the course of nature. Mother Earth runs her own program, with good reasons too. Even if you killed yourself out there today, it would not have held back the flood. And should you have lasted through this flood season, what then? The river would be a constant threat, and there will always be another flood season next year."

"But everything is gone now!" Milo wailed, "Gone, and dead!"

"Dead, yes, but to be reborn." Aioros murmured, "Look around you, Milo."

"I see nothing but muddy water," Milo said petulantly.

"Look with your heart," Aioros explained patiently, "But imagine a little. Can you not the see the black soil when the water retreats? See the rich planting season? And the young fish and birds in hiding now, can you not see them roaming these banks strong and grown as soon as the water is gone? The people indeed suffered heavy loss, but they shall learn to obtain life from this yearly flood just like the fish and the birds. Had you saved their houses and plants by the river bank, they would only suffer a heavier loss next year."

Milo looked around again, and suddenly saw the villagers gathered not too far from them. Around them scattered big and small packages and random household goods. Their animals were already gathered into newly made pens. The women were cooking over open fires, and the men were shaping logs or piling dirt. It seemed that Aioros had done much work in the past few days.

"I didn't know," Milo said, "I didn't know anything."

"It is alright, little one, you only have to learn." Aioros's voice deepened a little, "You need to only think of this water as an inundation rather than a flood and you shall see the blessing that it is."

"In-un-da-tion," Six years old Milo pronounced the word slowly.

"Yes, inundation," Aioros laughed, and his laughter rang clear and strong despite his deathly pallor, "Inundation, my brave little one, is the death that preserves life."


	3. Oratory

**Oratory**

The Gemini twins were great orators. Ever since he was a child of six or seven years old, Saga could speak with flawless logic and beguiling eloquence like the most seasoned politicians, and his words always contained a natural sense of command. Kanon too, hid behind his unruly exterior a poet's soul. When he had a mind to make an argument, he spewed out words with the passion and the intensity of Dante, of Schiller, of Shelly.

In contrast, Aioros was always quiet. He was generous with everything save his words. He only spoke when he had to, and his voice was always quiet and unassuming. He never used beautiful or esoteric words; his phrases had no musical rhythm; his speech never contained great art.

In his childhood days Saga had never considered Aioros a great leader. For which great leader, good or evil, was unpolished in the art of oration? From the legendary Odysseus, to Alexander, to Julius Caesar, to Napoleon and Hitler, every single one of them can charm the sky and earth with words alone. Aioros, for all of his qualities, seemed to lack the tongue of a great leader.

The year Saga was twelve and Aioros was eleven, they were sent to rescue a boy named Durante Masque who would one day become the infamous Death Mask from a small Italian town. The townspeople had called the boy possessed by demon and had asked a bishop to exorcize the child. The exorcism frightened young Durante. He fought it tooth and nail and everyone in the Sanctuary felt the flare of his raging cosmos.

"Stop these people and their absurd religiosity." Shion had told Saga and Aioros, "I will not have anyone treat the goddess's saint as a demon. It is best if you can simply convince the child's family and friends to accept him; but if they will not listen, I permit you to bring him to Sanctuary by force."

The two youths traced the pulsing cosmos to a chapel in the little town. Almost the entire town's population seemed to be there. When they tried to enter a crowd of adamant people blocked their path. "You cannot go in!" They shouted, "His Grace Bishop Paulo is trying to exorcize the demon child!"

"Let us in," Saga said with a regal voice unbefitting of a twelve-years old, "We shall show you all that the child is no demon. He is an honoured soul fated for greatness."

"What nonsense you speak!" People shouted, "You cannot go to the child. We shall stand guard here; you shall not enter the holy ground!"

At this Aioros leaned towards Saga and said quietly, "I shall go round the back and try to fetch the child."

Knowing Aioros was no orator and would serve little use here, Saga nodded.

"Why do you think the child is possessed?" Saga tried again to negotiate with the wary crowd before him, "His extraordinary abilities are a blessing, not a work of the devil! He is only a boy! How can you think any ill of him?"

"How can such ungodly abilities be a blessing?" The people shouted. "The demon inside him sneers at all things holy! That's why we asked His Grace to exorcize him."

"How can you say such a thing?" Saga cried, "He..."

Saga stopped. He suddenly realized that he could make no argument. He did not know the child, did not know his actions and characters. It seemed impossible for Saga to argue the young boy's case.

For the first time, Saga's oration failed him. Irately he raised his hand and said, "Let me enter! You cannot stop me!" With that he brought his hand down forcibly. A sudden wind whipped and the ground trembled as if in fear. When speech fails, a show of strength shall prevail.

Saga calculated the force his would display carefully. He knew this mock attack would harm no one. Thus when the ornate pedestal standing beside the chapel entrance shook and sent the bowl of water on the pedestal tumbling down, he did not think much of it. Yet everyone gathered at the chapel entrance gasped.

"In the name of the Lord!" The people exclaimed, "The Holy Water!"

Many people murmured and crossed themselves, while more turned to Saga angrily, crying, "How dare you defile our holy place so!"

For the briefest moment, Saga stood there confused and panicked. He had wanted to inspire awe and fear, not anger and animosity.

It was then Aioros reappeared in the crowd, a small blue-haired boy standing by his side. Saga saw him whispering something to the boy, and then the child ran over and picked up the water bowl on the ground.

"How can you touch…" There were more angry remarks but these quickly subsided.

For everyone saw plainly in the daylight that the bowl in the boy's hand glowed a pure, hallowed gold. The spilt water on the marble floor shimmered like liquid light. Then all the water leapt from the ground and hung in the air like a million stars. With one final whoosh, all of these golden droplets returned to the bowl.

The child looked at Aioros uncertainly and handed to bowl to him. Aioros replaced the bowl on the pedestal. Then he gently pushed the boy towards the pedestal. The child dipped his fingers in the Holy Water and crossed himself. Aioros too leaned over the pedestal. He kissed the rim of the ornate bowl but did not touch the water. Then the two made to enter the chapel.

The crowd that so adamantly blocked every intruder now spilt open like the Red Sea before Moses, allowing Aioros and the little boy to enter. And the end of the chapel beneath the altar, the bishop in rich robe stood, watching the two crossing the chapel with utter amazement.

Again, Saga saw Aioros ushering the boy and whispering things beside the child's ears. The boy ran up to the bishop and cried, "I am not possessed!"

"Be polite, Durante," Aioros admonished gently.

"I mean, I am not possessed by the demon, Your Grace," The boy lowered his voice a little and repeated, "I am a good boy, Your Grace."

The bishop did not speak, only looked at the boy uncertainly. Then he turned a questioning glance to Aioros. Noticing the holy man's gaze, Aioros knelt down and humbly kissed the hem of his robe. "Your Grace, I say to you: the child is not possessed!" Aioros said, "He is blessed with miraculous power, for a great task is appointed to him. Yet I have no evidence to offer you, Your Grace, only my words, and your own faith and good-will."

Even as Aioros said these words, a shaft of light fell on young Durante's head, illuminating his blue hair and pale face. A pair of doves that roosted in the nooks of the chapel ceiling now tumbled down and fluttered about the boy's head.

The bishop grew pale, murmured a quick prayer and crossed himself. He took Aioros's hands and helped the youth up, saying, "Do not kneel before me, for I am but a humble servant of our Lord, while you, I see that you are much closer to his wisdom than I. Forgive me; I have erred in my judgment of this child. The Lord's wisdom and will I now glimpse through you, and I wish for forgiveness."

"I do have that forgiveness to offer, Your Grace," Aioros said, "Only the child whom you wronged and Your Lord can offer you such, though I dare say neither shall begrudge their mercy."

Then the bishop turned to young Durante, kissed his brow and asked for forgiveness. All the townspeople now walked up around them as well. They knelt before the small blue-haired boy, kissed him and apologized.

Only Saga lingered by the entrance. He stood there still like a statue, still savouring with shock every nuance of Aioros's performance: every cajole and every subtle argument, every homage to Catholicism accompanied by every humble but firm refusal.

Saga was twelve when he first witnessed Aioros's oratory.

The sheer power and beauty of Aioros's silent oration had him neither awed nor impressed.

Rather, Saga was _terrified_.


	4. Ringbreakers

**Ring-breakers**

When Saga was fourteen and Aioros was thirteen, the Lord Shion gave each of them a ring. These rings were not slender circles for maiden's fingers, but rather brutish bands for a warrior's arm. They were thick and heavy, made with pure gold and adorned with a ridiculous amount of gemstones.

"These are rings for great kings and leaders of men," Lord Shion said, "They were worn by the likes of Theoderic, Charlemagne, and William the Conqueror. They are now yours; do what you will with them."

Aioros and Saga looked at each other bemusedly. They were children of the Aegean and were unfamiliar with the traditions and legends of the Germanic people in ancient times. Still, Lord Shion's meaning was transparent enough.

When words reached the other young Gold Saints, some of them clamored to see these rings. Saga and Aioros took out their golden rings and passed them to the children. The young ones gasped and sighed and chattered away their awe. Kanon only glanced at these rings and laughed.

Seeing the children's delight, an impulse suddenly took over Saga. He said, "If you all like it so much, each one of you shall have a piece."

He crushed the band of gold in his fist, breaking it into many small pieces. He took a smallest piece of gold with a single piece of ruby and placed it in his own pocket, the others he gave to his brother and to the young saints. He took care to give the largest fragment to Kanon.

His brother held the fragment of gold band aloft and said sardonically, "You know, Saga, according to Germanic traditions, kings and lords are called Ring-breakers. A good king breaks his ring and distributes the fragments to show his generosity, and his vassals receive these pieces to pledge their unfailing loyalty. Very clever of you, Saga."

Saga replied somewhat irately, "If you insist on seeing ulterior motives behind every single one of my actions, I shall gladly take back that piece I gave you."

But Kanon swiftly curled his long fingers around the gold. "Whether you like it or not, Saga," Kanon said quietly, "My loyalty is with you always."

Kanon's story produced another effect. Six-years old Aiolia shook the arm of his brother and said, "Brother Aioros, I want a piece of your ring! I am loyal to you, you know that!"

Mu and Milo jumped to either side of him and clamored together, "We want a piece of your ring too, brother Aioros!"

Even Shura and Shaka eyed Aioros expectantly.

Aioros smiled and said to them, "I know you all love me, and I love each and every single one of you. I hardly think we need pieces of gold to testify that! Anyway, I can think of much better use for that ring than your toy trunks."

Later that night, Saga put his fragment on a simple string and wore it around his neck. He did not think much more of it. A few months later, Lord Shion asked about the rings. Blushing, Saga pulled out his fragment. "I… I broke it to pieces and I gave the young one each a piece," He explained quietly, "They all seemed to like it, and I thought it was harmless…"

Shion said nothing, only nodded.

To Saga's utter shock, Aioros only produced a small fragment of gold as well.

"Who did you give pieces of that ring to, Aioros?" Lord Shion asked, "Your little brother? The young saints?"

"No, my lord." Aioros replied.

"Then who?"

Aioros was silent for a long time, before saying hesitantly, "I do not remember them all, My Lord, but mostly people in the village. I remember giving one piece to the old baker when his shop burned down, another to Mrs. Morrison when the mudslide destroyed her vineyard. I bought things for people here and there. I am sorry, my lord, I can't remember them all."

"You would give pieces of the ring to strangers, yet would not even gift your own brother a fragment?" Lord Shion asked.

Aioros bowed his head and replied, "I apologize, my lord. I… I just thought these people would surely have more need for some gold than Aiolia."

Lord Shion said no more and the meeting was adjourned.

The night Aioros died, Saga tried to find Aioros's last piece of that golden ring. He dug through every drawer and cupboard there was in the Sagittarius temple but he could not find that piece of gold. Instead Saga found a letter postmarked two days ago.

It was a thank-you letter: a young woman had written lines after lines of cheesy poetic. She thanked Aioros for financially supporting her education in the United States, for giving her a whole new horizon, and made more promises about how she will return and work in the village to repay the kindness of Aioros and the rest of the community, etc.

Saga was quite bored with the sheer mundane triviality of the letter, until he saw one line in the conclusion of the letter.

"You are a true ring-breaker." The young woman had said.

"A true ring-breaker." Saga echoed.


	5. Ordinary

**Ordinary**

It was the ordinary townspeople who discovered Aioros's body.

Two housewives returning from their morning excursions to the market took a shortcut through the ruins and they saw Aioros lying there on the marble floor, right beside a fallen pillar.

"Why, isn't that young Aioros? What is he doing there?" One woman asked.

The other looked and answered with a twinkle in her eyes, "It almost looks like he is recovering from a nasty hangover! He is, after all, a fourteen years old boy, and they are always like that!"

The women laughed and shouted, "Up, Aioros, up! Get up and let the morning sun cure your drunken head! Rosa! If you stay like this you will surely catch a chill."

Aioros did not respond.

The women walked closer. "Alright, Rosa, up you go," One woman said loudly, "If you keep lazing here like a pig I shall give your arse a mighty kick, don't say I…"

She suddenly stopped.

She was finally close enough to see the youth in full.

Aioros was curled up on his side, golden hair splashed against the white marble. Blood covered his naked torso and formed a pool beneath him.

"Rosa!" The woman screamed.

There was a flurry of activities in that small town that morning. One woman shouted and spread the news throughout the town, and another went to pound on the doors of the town's doctor. The townspeople called the police station in the nearest city, demanding with the most severe voice that they should send officers as soon as possible.

When the two police officers arrived, they found to their utter amazement that the entire town was gathered in the old ruins. They formed tight rings around a fallen pillar. Everyone was murmuring and crying, their eyes red, their voices low and hoarse. When they saw the police officers the ring of people moved aside and allowed them to enter into the center.

At the center of the crowd, the officers saw a youth lying on the ground, by the look of him dead for a while now. A middle-aged man sprang before the officers and shook their hands hastily, saying, "Hello, I am the mayor here. We can't tell you just how happy we are to see you here! We have all been waiting here for more than two hours now, officers. Surely you will put a right to this business."

"Waiting for two hours!" An officer exclaimed. He could hardly believe that an entire _town_ stood beside a dead boy for two hours, waiting. Curiously he turned his head to the body. The boy had some magic indeed.

"What happened to this young fellow?" The officer asked. "Did a doctor already check for cause of death?"

"Aye, I checked him," A tall man in his thirties jumped up. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked truly upset, "He… he took quite a beating. Terrible, it was just terrible, broken ribs and internal hemorrhage, punctured lung, knife wounds too. Who ever did this to him, they… they are simply monstrous!" The tall man wailed like a child, "How could anyone do this to Rosa? The boy was an angel!"

A few women crouching near the boy's body now wept louder.

The two police officers found it very hard to stay untouched by this collective distress. They stayed quiet for a while, before going over to exam the body themselves. Indeed the poor boy had taken quite a beating. They could feel the broken ribs, see signs of collapsed lung, and the knife wounds were just blatant. After a few moments the two officers shared a grim look: they already saw something darker than what the townspeople could begin to suspect.

Finally one officer said, "The hits he took are well-placed and extremely effective. The knife wounds are deep and clean, and almost all of them nicked a major artery. This looks… professional, to say the least."

"Professional, what do you mean professional?" The mayor exclaimed hoarsely.

"Say, what kind of a boy was he?" The other officer asked, "Could he be involved with some gangs? Think about it: did he ever meet with any strangers? Did he leave town often? What about finance? Did he always seem to have…"

The officer could not finish his questions; he was drowned out in a sea of protest.

"What? No!"

"Absolutely not; that is absurd!"

"How can you think anything like that? The boy was an angel!"

The officer held up a hand and said, "Wow! I don't mean to offend, I just want some answers. Now if you can speak one at a time please."

The crowd quieted a little, then the mayor spoke on everyone's behalf, saying, "Look, officers, I know you have a right to be suspicious. But the boy was certainly _not_ involved with any funny business. He was an angelic little thing, very good, very friendly, never said a disrespectful word and most helpful if you ever need a hand. Why, he was a most _ordinary _sort. Just ask anyone in the town! You don't think twice about the boy's going about, because there is nothing to think about! Quite an ordinary young man, I tell you, good and hardworking, he would never involve himself with any wild adventure."

"What sort of things does he do around town?" The officer asked.

"He came to my daycare to help the little ones with their letters everyone Wednesday evening," An old woman said.

"He used to come by the town hall the help us clean the first and fifteenth of every month," The mayor said.

"Bought fresh produce and other groceries from me every Friday morning," Another woman put in, "You won't think it, but little Rosa was a _marvelous _cook. Gave me this unbelievable sponge cake recipe."

"I cut his hair last Sunday of every month." The town barber said, "And then he cuts my hair, if I have a mind. He was quite good at cutting hair too."

"And he helped me out at my clinic all the time," The doctor said shakily, "Rosa was unbelievable. Did everything I told him, never made a mistake. Sometimes even I write a wrong name on prescriptions or mistook two patients' files, and he would always notice and tell me. He came every Saturday, but if I was particularly busy he would show up at the door too. I never even had to call him; he came whenever I needed him. What am I going to _do _without him?"

The two officers frantically wrote everything down, but they soon noticed a glaring problem.

"Say, who are the boy's parents?" One officer asked.

This time no one spoke for a long time. Finally, someone said hesitantly, "I don't think he's got any."

The officers frowned and looked at each other, then asked again, "What's the young fellow's name again?"

"Aioros" was the answer.

"What's his _last_ name?" The officer now wore a frown, "And who are his relatives? Even if he didn't have parents, what about siblings? Grandparents? Uncles and aunts? He must have had guardians: he doesn't look like he would be old enough to live by himself!"

Again, the townspeople were silent. Finally, a young woman said, "I think his last name was Demetrio. I think I must have heard him mention it sometime, but I can't be sure."

"Okay, where did he live then?" The officer sounded a little exasperated.

This time, the entire town was dumbstruck.

"Sweet Mother Mary!" The officer exclaimed, "Here is a boy with no last name, no parents and no home, and you all say he was the most _ordinary_ chap?"

"He _was_ the most ordinary sort, would _never_ involve himself with anything bad…" A few women murmured.

"Enough, enough," The officers said, "We are not here to judge the fellow, and we are not saying he was a secret gangster or whatnot, we simply need more answers."

After what seemed like an eternity, a small boy, no more than seven years old, said quietly, "I think brother Rosa's got a little brother. He told me before that he has a brother who is my age. I think brother Rosa's little brother lives in the Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary!" Everyone drew a sharp breath.

The two officers looked at each other. They conducted no more investigation, only took Aioros's body and returned to their stations in the big city.

Months of futile waiting and hoping passed by, and the townspeople finally realized that no justice would avenge their little Rosa. There were powers that stood way above their heads and there were places even law and government cannot touch. Their beloved, ordinary Rosa had gotten himself into some extraordinary troubles, and justice would not be served.

Weeping, the townspeople retrieved Aioros's body, and everyone helped with his burial.

It was almost two years later when an old woman saw an unfamiliar figure standing beside Aioros's tomb. It was a little boy, perhaps nine or ten years old, wearing a suit of shining golden armor that nearly blinded her. The boy was tall and beautiful, with golden hair as bright as his armor and a face that almost looked exactly like Aioros's.

"Oh, oh!" The old woman exclaimed, voice trembling, "You… you must be Rosa's little brother! The one who lives in the Sanctuary!"

The boy only glanced at her, an imperious sort of glance, before turning his eyes and staring at Aioros's tombstone again.

The old woman suddenly felt angry, so she shouted at the boy, "You! Where were you all these times? Think yourself so high and mighty, and couldn't bother with your brother, since he is so layman, is that it? Well, let me tell you something: you brother might be an ordinary man like the rest of us, but he was a far better man than you!"

The boy turned and faced her squarely. The old woman started and backed up a few steps to avoid the glare of that splendid golden armor.

"You called my brother," The child said, "Ordinary."

"So what if he was?" The old woman cried defensively, "Ordinary men like your brother make this world go around. You can feel all lordly and splendid in your petty armor, sitting in your petty Sanctuary, but we don't give a whiff of care about that."

"Did my brother never tell you who he was?" The child's voice trembled.

"We all know who he was," The old woman eyed him strangely, "He was our Rosa. What else did he need to tell?"

The child stared at her; his lips quivered and his eyes watered. Finally he stomp his foot and stormed off. He left a trail of blazing golden light in his wake, and the earth shook and trembled.

"Holy Mother!" The old woman exclaimed and crossed herself.

After that, no lordly apparitions in golden armor showed up beside Aioros's tomb ever again. Beside the tombstones there were only ordinary people and ordinary things: fresh flowers, dripping honey combs and pots of fresh wine and milk.

His tombstone said

"Here rests Aioros,

Our little Rosa

Beloved friend

May God receive your soul

Amen"

Oh, what an ordinary tombstone.


	6. Sanctuary

**Sanctuary**

The Sagittarius temple was a sanctuary within Sanctuary.

Usually no one goes there, for it was well known that the Sagittarius saint likes his peace and privacy. Yet when people are upset or distressed or troubled by some sudden woe, they almost always rushed into the ninth house without a care.

The young saints were especially careless in their invasions. When Milo was upset, he always ran to the Sagittarius temple, wailing all the way. He would rush directly to Aioros's bedroom, jump onto the Sagittarius saint's bed, and wail louder still. He would not leave until Aioros shows up, pats his back and kisses him, and gives him a big bowl of fish soup. Once, Milo had wailed a long time and still Aioros failed to come, for the Sagittarius Saint had been away from the Sanctuary. Milo stopped his crying after a while but he stubbornly refused to leave the Sagittarius house. When Aioros returned he found the blue-haired boy asleep on his own bed. Smiling and shaking his head, Aioros carefully arranged the blanket over the boy and went to prepare fish soup.

Mu went to Sagittarius temple as often as Milo, though he never cried. The little ram considered crying beneath him. He would barge into Aioros's room and sit there, arms crossed and sulking. Aioros would always smile at the child and say, "Tell me what happened, little one." Then the child would spill a long and heated rant of this trouble or that. Sometimes Aioros smiled and consoled him, other times Aioros frowned and reprimanded him, but in the end he would always offer young Aries some sweet sponge cake. In truth Aioros reprimanded more than consoled, for Mu was a troublemaker of the worst kind, but that never stopped Mu from running into the ninth house again and again.

The other youngsters were never as bold and audacious as the fiery Mu and Milo, but they all frequented the Sagittarius temple enough. Even Kanon, the proud and unruly Kanon who always hid his problems with a cold laugh, confided in Aioros.

In the entire Sanctuary, Saga was perhaps the only one other than the Grand Pope who did not hide in the haven of Sagittarius temple when he was upset. Saga would very much appreciate Aioros's silent patience and gentle words on a woeful day, but he did not like to show weakness.

But that night when Saga locked his own brother away, he could no longer hold back his wandering feet. He walked straight into Aioros's bedroom in the Sagittarius temple.

Saga sat down on Aioros's bed, staring at the floor blankly and not saying a word. Aioros looked at him and did not ask what happened, only squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. He left briefly and returned with two cups of steaming coffee. For a long time they only sat there, sipping the potent dark liquid.

Aioros asked quietly midway through the coffee, "Can you tell me?"

Saga froze a second and then answered, "No, Aioros, it is my own demon to fight."

"I have faith in you," Aioros said and smiled at him broadly. He emptied his coffee cup and then said, "Say, you finished that book I recommended you?"

They spent the rest of the evening discussing very random things, from nineteenth century literature to Greek-Turkish relations to the latest development in semi-conductor technology. Saga knew in his heart that this was a false sense of peace and security, but he was comforted and even happy, at least for a night.

That night, just when Saga was about to leave the Sagittarius temple, he suddenly turned and said, "Aioros, your house is a sanctuary."

Aioros seemed startled and puzzled for just a moment before realizing what Saga meant. He laughed and said, "I am glad you enjoy a retreat at my place, but really, don't give it such a big name!"

"I hope," Saga said, "I hope I shall always have a sanctuary here."

To that Aioros had replied warmly, "Of course. I will be here as long as you need me."

Barely a month after Aioros said these words, he was gone forever.

Thirteen years later, the House of Sagittarius opened its doors again, but only the splendid golden armor returned. Aiolia came to the entrance of the ninth house, stood there looking at the golden cloth faintly shimmering. He stood for a long time, still as a statue. Then he turned around and left. Shaka arrived just when he was just leaving. The two exchanged a glance but neither said a word. Like Aiolia, Shaka stood a while at the entrance, then turned and left. Aldebaran briefly cleaned the golden armor and Milo laid a bunch of flowers at its feet. Mu had come last, after all the others had left. To his surprise, he found Saori standing there, gazing at the Sagittarius cloth.

"Goddess," He said, and went on his knees.

The girl took his hand and pulled him up.

"If you do not mind me asking, goddess, what are you doing here?" Mu asked.

"I do not rightly know myself," The girl answered, "I am upset, so I came down here. When I was young, I always hid inside the Sagittarius cloth box whenever I was upset."

"Oh?"

"Yes, inside the box," Saori smiled sadly, saying, "Did you know the front piece of the box can open like a door? Ever since I was three, if I was upset, I would open it up, crawl into the box and squeeze myself between all these gold pieces."

"It couldn't have been very comfortable." Mu felt a smile tugging at his lips. He was indeed amused, yet deep in his heart there was also a hollow ache. He remembered the days when he himself would rush into Aioros's room and sulk and rant and have sweet sponge cakes.

"No, it wasn't," The girl said, "It did not matter to me though, for _he_ was there. I did not care for discomfort as long as I could see him. He always smiled at me and he called me little one. He scolded me too, if I did something wrong. Still, I went to him every time, even if I knew that I would be scolded"

She suddenly turned around, and said with shining eyes, "Oh Mu, do you understand? He was my _sanctuary_."

Mu felt something some thing in him raged and then shattered. He looked down. "I know, goddess," He answered, "He was… and still is, for each and every single one of us, Sanctuary."


End file.
